


The Cat and the Hound

by GabbyLorelai



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Drinking, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, First Love, First Time, Fluff, Follows the plot, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Loss of Parent(s), Mutual Pining, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Original Character(s), Protectiveness, Reader has a snarky attitude, Reader-Insert, Romance, Sassy, Separations, Sexual Tension, Slice of Life, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-15 04:48:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16926792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GabbyLorelai/pseuds/GabbyLorelai
Summary: Alleide Croan was nobody important. She was a farmer's daughter who grew up close to Winterfell whose father sometimes let her accompany him to the castle to sell their crops to the head chef. Ever since the time when Lord Eddard Stark's hunting party happened across their farm one day and the hunting dogs along with several horses had run through our fields, wrecking havoc. Being the ever just Lord that he was known to be, coin was offered in payment for the ruined crops, however, her father had had a better idea.On one of these trips, her father is brutally attacked by a group of thugs and later dies, much to her dismay. He had taken care of her til the end, however, as he had arranged her to become Lady Sansa Stark's hand maid as he lay on his death bed.This is how she eventually comes to meet the giant man named Sandor Clegane. A tall, scarred, mysterious, and quite vulgar man that drinks too much, swears in abundance, quite happily kills anyone in his way, and ... whose soul is screaming for just the smallest amount of sympathy and affection.For someone with such a terrifying past, he was one of the most gentle people Alleide had ever met. So why couldn't anyone else see this?





	1. A Death and an Opportunity

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I have made this a reader insert, but your name is Alleide Croan, so that I don't have to go through and do the whole, '[Your Name]' things. That always throws me off when reading, so I don't tend to like to write that way.

You had never really wanted much in life; your family were simple farmers just a short distance from Winterfell. You and your father would ride there once every month to sell some crops to purchase the things you couldn’t make for yourselves.  
  
Your father was currently off talking to the chef from the castle about obtaining a rather large order of onions and asparagus and a few other choice vegetables to prepare for the visitation of the King and his family. You were outside of the walls in Winter Town, and while it was rather empty in the Summer, you still enjoyed looking around the few shops that were open. Winter Town wouldn’t even be at half capacity until the long Summer finally ended. Only then did people start to flood in to help each other through the rough Winter. Perhaps it was an odd practice, but Winter was coming.

 

The little inn, the Smoking Log, had smoke billowing out of its chimney, and the prospect of a hot fire sounded amazing while waiting for your father. You hopped down out of your carriage, tying off your horse in the stable and stepped into the inn, rubbing your hands together and asking for a hot mug of tea to warm up. Father shouldn’t be too much longer.

 

At least that’s what you had thought when you drained the last drops from your mug, a chill setting into the room as the door swung in to reveal a few Winterfell guards.

 

“We’re looking for Alleide Craon.” The taller one spoke up, glancing around the room and settling on you when you stood up. “Can I help you?”  
  
“It’s your father.”

 

* * *

   
You weren’t sure what you were expecting as you raced back to Winterfell behind the guards. They hadn’t offered to tell you what happened and you didn’t feel like waiting for an explanation, either. They led you up the stairs and to the Maester’s chambers where your father was laying out on a cot, seemingly resting.

 

“Maester, what happened?” You rushed into the room, grabbing hold of your father’s hand as you looked up at the old maester imploringly. “He apparently had just sold the last of the crops off to the head chef and was walking down the King’s Road to Winter Town to collect you when he was robbed by a few thugs... “ The Maester trailed off as you looked down at your bruised and bloodied parent. He was the only person you had in the world.  
  
You mother had died two years ago during childbirth. She had been in labor for over a day before her body finally gave out. When her midwife finally retrieved the baby from her, she was already dead. According to the midwife, she hadn’t even finished developing and had been dead for at least a few months. Obviously my father was devastated.  
  
But we trudged on because we still had each other and the farm to keep us going. Sure, it was difficult at first, but we were finally starting to get to a comfortable place again and he had even began courting this woman from the neighboring village.

 

“Alleide.” A weak voice came from your father which caused you to clutch his hand more tightly and kneel next to him. “Yes, I’m here. I’m here, Father. What can I do to help you?”  
  
He smiles and reached his hand up to stroke the side of your face, cupping your cheek and wiping tears with his thumb. “I’m not going to make it, Alleide.” Why he was smiling about this…? “I arranged for you t-to….” his sentence was interrupted by a violent coughing fit that left blood trickling from his lips. He sighed before continuing, “I arranged for you to be the Lady Sansa’s handmaiden. You’ll have a good life here. You’ve met her before. The Starks are good people. There’s nothing for you back at the house.”

 

You shook your head, sobbing as your fingers gripped the blanket that was over him tightly. “No, father. You can’t … You’ll get better, you’ll see! Please… You can’t leave me, too…”

 

He just smiled again. “It’ll be okay, little kitten. You’re tough. I am so proud of you…”

 

“...I’m going to be with your mother...”

 

Tears fell liberally down your cheeks when the Maester offered his condolences as the last shuddering breath left your father, smile still firmly in place.

 

* * *

 

Sansa Stark hadn’t much felt like breakfast that morning for all of her chirping about how handsome Prince Joffrey was. When you arrived to help her dress, she proclaimed that her stomach was, ‘all a flutter with nerves’ and she couldn’t possibly eat anything. You had been her handmaid for half a year now, and you were finally becoming accustomed to life here. It was definitely different, but the work wasn’t as laborious and the benefits were decent. Room and board with food and you even got a bit of coin here and there to put away. Plus, the Starks were incredibly kind to their help.

 

Sansa was picking out all of the pretty clothes she wanted to take with her to King’s Landing, so you decided to go down to the courtyard to collect more wood for her fire. You were just about to turn the corner into the courtyard when you heard a loud, whingeing voice proclaim, “I’m telling mother!”

 

Glancing around one of the posts, you see a rattled prince and his exasperated uncle, Tyrion, exchanging a few choice words before the younger one ran off.  
  
“The Prince will remember that, little lord.” The tall, crude looking man with the scars said. He was known as “The Hound” or “dog” as the Prince liked to call him. But his name was Sandor Clegane, if you weren’t mistaken. Several horror stories accompanied that name…

 

“I hope so, if he forgets, be a good dog and remind him.” The imp said in a snide tone before sauntering off talking about what he wanted for breakfast. You walked up and started collecting a few pieces of firewood that the Hound was standing in front of. “Uhm … I’m sorry …  they talk to you that way.” Looking up at the man’s face, you noticed that he was eyeing you with an unreadable expression before grunting and turning away from you.  
  
‘ _Okay, fine. I’m not sorry. Jeez.’_ As he walked off, you took the few pieces up to Lady Sansa’s room and helped her finish packing.

 

* * *

 

Several hours into the trip to King’s Landing, the King demanded everyone stop to take a break from riding. Which was perfectly fine with you as you needed to stretch your legs. Lady Sansa was busy preoccupying herself with Prince Joffrey, so you were just walking around a grassy clearing, enjoying the warm rays that were pouring down onto your skin. You hadn’t been on the road for very long, but the weather was already significantly better here than back at Winterfell.

 

You circled around the clearing until you saw a giant of a person kneeling down a little bit away next to one of the trees. As you walked closer, you saw why; the Hound had found a little baby bird that had seemingly fallen out of a nest that was several feet above your head.

 

Whether he didn’t sense you or knew you were there and didn’t acknowledge you at first, you weren’t sure, but when the Hound stood to full height and put the bird back in the nest with ease, you felt something tug at your heart that you hadn’t expected. This small display of tenderness showed that this man with such fearsome and terrible rumors surrounding him, actually had a gentle side.

 

He turned and saw you, smiling up at him and grunted, going to step around you. “That was really sweet.” You said hurriedly, stopping him in his tracks. “Wasn’t meant to be sweet. Just didn’t want to see it die because it was a stupid fuck and didn’t stay in its nest.”

 

Incidentally, that’s also how you felt about all of these birds leaving their home...


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this chapter has mild sexual / almost rape content, blood, and gore in the last part.

About a week into the journey to King’s Landing, everyone had started to grow weary of the constant riding and craved a bit of a break. It was around this time that you saw the Queen turn to King Robert and say, “My love, aren’t we close to those wonderful hot springs? I was hoping we could stop at them again.”

Hardly looking over at her, he took another swig from his wineskin, carelessly spilling a bit down his front. “Ahhh, yes I suppose it would be nice to wash off a bit. We’ll need to be stopping for the night soon enough, anyway.” At that, she sent the knights closest to her off ahead, searching for the camp they had rested at on the way up to Winterfell. Slowing your horse, you pulled alongside Lady Sansa and animatedly told her about the hot springs the Queen was just talking about. After a week on horseback, soaking in hot water would feel absolutely divine.

It didn’t take long for the knights to locate the place in question and soon enough, everyone was off of their horses and stretching the kinks out of their muscles. The Queen left immediately with her handmaidens to bathe in the hot spring. Knowing it’d be a while until it would be your time to go in, being a Stark handmaiden, you set about helping the knights to feed and water the horses.

You brush your hand gently across a painted mare’s neck, feeling her glossy fur beneath your fingertips. You pull a chunk of carrot you put in your skirt pockets and hold it out for her, smiling warmly as her lips tickle the palm of your hand. You reach into your pocket to pull out another piece, looking off to your right as some Lannister knights burst into laughter a few feet away and you catch them all staring at you, huge grins plastered on their faces.

Suddenly uncomfortable, you quickly feed the mare the other piece of carrot before making your way over to where Lady Sansa is standing, openly flirting with Prince Joffrey. You curtsey to both as you approach, bowing your head. “Your grace. My lady.” You raise your head and look up into the Hound’s eyes, who is standing directly behind the Prince. Smiling, you turn towards Lady Sansa, “My lady, I was wondering if you’d like some water? And of course, you as well, my Prince.” You smile in his direction as you mention him, looking at them both expectantly. They both agreed, so you rushed off to the back of one of the carts to the barrels of water and filled up two of the wooden chalices, carrying them back to the giggling pair before running off to another cart.

You excuse yourself past the knights who were still standing around the cart, grabbing a flask and filling it full from one of the barrels of ale. “What’s a little lady doing with such a big glass of ale, hmm? You trying to get drunk tonight?” You look up at the group of men, gritting your teeth so you don’t bite his head off.

Forcing a smile, you circle around them and head back off in the direction of Lady Sansa and the Prince, but go slightly past to where the Hound is standing in wait. His eyes flick to you as you walk towards him, your smile becoming a genuine one as you hold the mug of ale out for him. “I thought you might be thirsty as well, Ser.” 

* * *

 ‘ _This little cunt can’t even see that she has no interest in his hunting stories. Poor girl._ ’ Laughter erupts from over at the drink carts and several snide comments about the things some of the Lannister knights would do to the pretty brown haired handmaid that accompanied Lady Sansa. She was feeding one of the horses, minding her own business.

Sandor sighed. ‘ _Dumb cunts. Just go to one of the whore houses when we get back to King’s Landing. Stop making the girls uncomfortable. No wonder none of them like you._ ’ Sandor adjusted his sword on his hip, leaving his hand resting on the pommel. His eyes flick to her as she walks up to the young couple a few feet away. “My lady, I was wondering if you’d like some water? And of course, you as well, my Prince.”

She then wandered back towards the vile group of Lannister knights making derogatory comments about what they think is under her skirts. Sandor watches as she scurries off away from them, handing the young Prince and Lady their water, then heads back towards the drink carts again. ‘ _Really now, I wouldn’t have taken her for an ale girl_.’ He watches as she fills the mug up, pursing her lips at the men around her before she looks straight up into his eyes. Her forced smile melts into one that feels more natural as she holds the mug out for him.

‘ _So the ale was for me … ?_ ’ He looks down at her with a confused expression. “I thought you might be thirsty as well, Ser.” She bats her eyelashes and bites one side of her lip as the other side perks up in a smile. ‘ _Cute …_ ’

He grunts as he takes the ale, bringing the cup up to his lips, “I’m no ser.” He takes a few large gulps from the ale, breathing out when he pulls the cup from his mouth and wiping at his face with the back of a gloved hand. “Oh … “ Letting out a breathy chuckle, she takes a step closer, reaching up towards his face to wipe some foam from the side of his mouth, however, he takes a hurried step back before she’s able to touch him.

‘ _What the fuck is she doing? Why is she reaching out like that?_ ’ His eyebrows furrowed as he looks down at her anxious face. “I-I’m sorry … You just had some of the ale still on your face.”

‘ _Why does she look upset …?_ ’ He grunts as he hurriedly wipes at his mouth again. “No need to dirty your hand over a dog’s messy habits.” He downs the rest of the ale, walking off to set the mug on the back of the drink cart, causing the smaller men to nervously walk off to yak about things elsewhere.  
  
_‘Dumb cunts.’_

* * *

 Several hours past nightfall, after everyone else had bathed in the hot springs, it was finally your turn. Lady Sansa had offered to let you accompany her when the Stark ladies had gone, but the thought of being in there while she gossiped about how her beloved Joffrey said the sweetest things made you want to gag. So you waited for the Lannisters, their handmaids, their knights, the Starks, their handmaids and their knights to be done bathing before you headed over with a lit lantern, towel, and a fresh change of clothes. The water wouldn’t be as clean now but at least you were alone.

You pull the strings loose on your dress, letting the top fall down as you undo the ones that tie the bottom part closed before letting it fall to the ground and stepping out of it. You had shed your colder weather clothes the day before as the snow slowly melted away to rolling fields of aromatic flowers and grass so soft you wondered why you even needed shoes.

You step towards the water, putting the lantern and towel down on the only dry rock that was close to the water before slowly dipping your feet into the edge. The water is slightly hot, but it feels incredible as you slide down into the pool, the heat instantly sapping away the dull ache in your muscles from riding for so long. You sigh lazily as you turn towards the side of the pool and place your arms on one of the rocks above the water, resting your head atop them and closing your eyes and let your fingers sway back and forth in the water.

* * *

You’re not exactly sure how long you just rest there in the water, but by the time you open your eyes again, your fingers are wrinkled and your lantern is burning low. Figuring it’s about time you head back to the camp, you step out of the water and wrap your towel around yourself, squeezing the water out of your hair when you hear a rustle of leaves behind you. You freeze as several men walk out of the tree line towards you, all smiling that same lecherous smile that you saw under the Lannister helms earlier.

_‘Shit …’_

“Can I help you guys with anything?” You quickly snatch up your dress and tie it around yourself, letting the towel fall to the ground once you have everything securely in place.

“Oh you can definitely help us out, sweetheart.” One of the men slurred.  
“Dunno know why you put that dress on. Not gonna need it.” Another said as he closed in on you, reaching his hands out.

 _‘Oh fuck no.’_ You turn on heel, completely abandoning your items. You run off into the darkness in the opposite direction of the camp, hoping to loop around once you put enough space between you and the, obviously drunk, soldiers. You duck under the arms of one of the soldiers as he stumbles in your direction and pick up speed as you hear their thunderous footsteps behind you.

Picking up your skirts so you don’t trip, you jump over a log you see in the dim moonlight as you veer towards the left suddenly. Your heart is pounding in your ears as you strain to see how far behind they are.

You turn more towards the left. The camp should be just ahead of you … It was only a few hundred yards away from the hot spring. You can’t hear the soldiers, but that doesn’t mean anything. Between your own foot falls, your panting, and your heartbeat, you’d almost be surprised if you had heard them. You turn your head to catch a glimpse of the soldiers easily gaining on you. They’re only about 10 yards away and gaining ground fast. You look ahead of you and see the light from the camp. You’re going to make it!

 _‘I’m going to make it!_ ’ A relieved grin breaks across your face as you jump over another log …

And fall face first into a ditch on the other side.

“AHH!” You shriek as you fall on the sticks and rocks, cuts oozing blood down your arms and legs as the men attack you.

Suddenly hands are all over you, holding you down and covering your mouth, making it hard to catch your breath after running that fast. You shake your head, eyes wide and watering as one of the men yanks the top of your dress loose, exposing your breasts to the cool night air and their lecherous gazes. You try to bite the hand over your mouth, but he has a glove on and he just smacks your face with his other hand for even trying. You scream past the gloved hand, but know it’s not very loud. You breathe in through your nose as you’re about to try to scream again when you hear the distinct clinking of a belt buckle.

‘ _… no … Please please please no. Oh my gods why is this happening??_ ’

You look at the guy who is forcing your legs apart and see his pants lower to the ground around his knees, his manhood standing up and ready to violate you. Whimpering, tears are now streaming down your face as you try to pull away from them, but there’s no way you can overpower five grown men … He crawls towards you so his thighs are pressed flush up against yours as two of the men loop your legs over his hips and hold him there. He takes his filthy cock in his hands and grins at you; one of the other men holding your arms leans down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth, biting down on it roughly, causing you to scream again from the pain, earning another slap across the face.

You feel the man’s hand touch between your legs and you already know how this is going to end…

You suddenly hear a sickening, wet noise above you and when you open your eyes, you see a sword sticking through the man’s mouth. A giant, gloved hand grabs the now dead man by the hair and yanks him to the side off of you before shoving a knife in the top of another man’s head. He grunts as he dodges a punch that one of the smaller men throw at him before rearing back and punching the man in the nose. A nauseating crunch sound can be heard as metal meets bone and the man’s face erupts in blood.

The other two men scramble off of you, one of them jumping on the large figure’s back, trying to grab his arms and hold him back as the other draws a sword and advances. You quickly cover yourself back up as best you can as a deafening crack rings through the air. The tall figure’s hands are wrapped around the neck of the man on his back and he heaves the man over his shoulder, slamming him into the last guy before plunging his sword through both of them, blood spurting as he yanks the sword out. He leans down and wipes the blood off on one of the dead men’s clothes before sheathing it again and turning towards you.

“Is any of that blood yours?” Sandor’s gravelly voice meets your ears and you almost sob out in relief as you reach up and take his hand, letting him hoist you to your feet with ease. You try to answer him, but your voice catches in your throat as you look up at him.

You whimper lightly and jump up, throwing your arms around his neck as you start sobbing into his neck, not caring about the blood that’s covering both of you. His strong, warm arms wrap around you, holding you in place as he lets you finish.


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some sweet fluffy romantic antics happening~ 
> 
> Can I just say that I absolutely adore this man???

Sandor was surprised, to say the least, when she jumped into his arms willingly. Sure, she had just almost been raped but … No one ever willingly touched him. Admittedly, it had felt pretty good to kill those men. The little cunt Prince had been pissing him off recently with his snide comments. Slicing those men open and seeing their blood spray everywhere had been the perfect release.

 

… Or so he thought.

 

He sat down against a tree and placed her in his lap as he let the girl cry into his shoulder. She was covered in blood, and he wasn’t sure if it was hers or not, but he didn’t dare say anything and make her move away. Even if just for a few minutes, having a girl willingly cling to him without being paid to felt … nice. All of his stress and previous frustrations melted away with her tears. Perhaps that was wrong of him, taking pleasure from this moment of immense pain, but he couldn’t help how he felt.

 _‘She smells nice …’_ He thought as he turned his head, her hair brushing against the side of his face.

 

She finally started to stir, her arms loosening their death like grip from his neck as she sniffled and wiped her tears and snot on her tattered sleeve. “Sandor …” She looked up at him, her face a few inches from his and he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and brought it to her face, wiping off the blood splatter that she hadn’t gotten with her sleeve.

  
“Are you hurt?” He muttered while glancing back at the men lying around them.

 

* * *

 

When your tears finally run dry, you look up from his shoulder and realize that you were sitting on Sandor Clegane’s lap. You move back a few inches, face flushed, heart beating wildly as you blink a couple times to get your bearings. 

  
_‘He saved me from those men … and he’s sitting here letting me use him as a giant teddy bear as I cry about it …’_ Embarrassment overwhelms you like a tidal wave as your face turns a brighter shade of red.

 

“Sandor …”

 

A large, calloused hand comes up and wipes a few spots on your face. “Are you hurt?” He asked as you continue to watch him; watch the emotions ever so slightly playing over his face. His touch was gentle, a lot more gentle than you had thought possible from someone who easily slung a grown man over his shoulder like a rag doll.

 

You sit back on his knees, placing your hands on his shoulders as you look down at your dress, your knees, and your arms.

 

“I-I accidentally fell in the ditch.” You indicate back towards the spot where one of the torches is laying, abandoned on a pile of rocks.

 

A deep chuckle emanates from his chest and a smirk crosses his face as he lets out a snide comment. “Here I thought you laid yourself bare there for the picking.” He stands with your legs still wrapped around his waist, his hands around your back as he slowly helps you stand on your own.  
  
“Ow!!” You cry out in pain as the adrenaline has finally receded and you can feel just how bad the cuts on your feet are. Immediately, he picks you back up bridal style, ripping the cloak from his back and wrapping it around you clumsily while still managing to remain his hold on you. He kicks some dirt atop the torch, watching it burn out before walking back towards the camp.

 

* * *

 

“My gods, Alleide! What happened??” Lady Sansa came running towards you two when Sandor went striding by her and the Prince. You look down at her past the plating on his arm and open your mouth to respond to her.

 

“Bunch o’ cunts thought they were going to have some fun with her.” You look back up at Sandor, resting your cheek against his armor. You were messy enough, you didn’t care if it was covered in the now dried blood. _‘So much for that bath…’_

 

“Her cuts need to be cleaned.” Sandor practically shouted at one of the other handmaidens as he walked up behind her, causing her to jump out of her skin and skitter off. Poor girl was probably frightened of such a big man storming in her direction. I guess the two of you probably were a sight, covered in blood, dress ripped and covered in his cloak, cuts everywhere. You could only imagine what people were thinking.

 

When the girl showed back up with all of the necessary items to clean and dress your wounds, Sansa ushered all of you into her tent for some privacy. Sandor carefully set you down on the small cot, slowly removing his hands from you so as not to jar you and cause further injury before stepping back and looking at the handmaid. “What are you waiting for?” he said gruffly, standing in the corner to get out of the way.

 

The girl, Gloriana, jumped at his voice but came forward immediately, tugging the cloak from your body so she could get a good look. You portrayed the events in as much detail as you could remember and you watched as Sandor’s normally emotionless face slowly turned into one of disgust and rage.

 

“Well it doesn’t look like you need any stitching but you have cuts all over your arms, legs, and feet. I definitely wouldn’t suggest doing a lot of walking until these heal. You also have a bit of a cut on your forehead here, but it’s also minor. If you have any dizziness, though, make sure you tell someone so you don’t fall. Wouldn’t want to make things worse.” Gloriana then set about pouring wine on all of your cuts, causing you to wince and look away, clutching the sheets and gritting your teeth. When she had finished cleaning them, she used a rag to wipe away the wine, dirt, and blood from your body and wrapped the more serious cuts with a light smear of honey and crushed yarrow to help fight off infection.

  
  
The girl then gets up and turns to Sandor, nervously wringing her hands and standing as far away from him as she can before meekly informing him that she needed to help you change. He grunts and nods and steps out of the tent, allowing your privacy as Lady Sansa and Gloriana help you out of your ruined dress and into a new one.

 

When Gloriana left, Sandor ducks his head back into the tent to look at you and your lady. “She should sleep in here tonight instead of out with the rest of the girls.” Sansa nodded in reply. “I’ll sleep out here so no one bothers you.” With that, he exited the tent and sat down in front of it with a loud huff and clank of armor.

 

* * *

 

You weren’t sure how long you were out, but you had fallen asleep almost as soon as you had gotten your bedding laid out on the floor of the tent. Your muscles throbbed with a dull pain, and you lightly scratched your leg with one hand as you wipe your eyes with the other. You smack your lips together a few times, trying to clear the cotton mouth but know it’s not going to go away without a bit of water. Standing up carefully, you painstakingly make your way over to the opening in the tent and thank the gods when you see that one of the drink carts are only a few yards away.

 

After retrieving a cup of water for yourself, you start on your way back to the tent and you notice Sandor laying down right outside of it, like he said he would. Smiling and tiptoeing around him, you settle back down in your bedroll, happy to get off of your feet. “I coulda gotten that for you.” You heard him mutter lightly, only now realizing that he was within 3 feet of your own bedding.

 

“I’m not completely helpless, Sandor.” You chuckle softly as you take a sip from the cup. “How’re you feeling?” His voice gets a bit louder as he turns over in your direction, his chainmail clinking lightly in the process.

 

“I’m okay. Hurting, obviously, but okay. Thanks to you.” You pull your knees up to your chest and put your arms on top of them, taking another sip of water. “Eh. I did what any fucker in their right mind woulda done.”

 

“But it wasn’t anyone else. It was you … I’m glad it was you.” You mutter the last part into your cup as you down the rest of your water, setting it aside. He doesn’t respond for quite a while; to the point that you aren’t sure if he heard you or not. Finally, he takes a deep breath and rolls over onto his back. “It’s a dog’s duty to chase off vermin.”

 

Both of you sit there in silence for a few minutes before you lay back down under your blanket, facing the side of the tent. Biting your lip nervously, you slide your hand under the fabric and reach out until you feel Sandor’s arm, following it down to his hand. You feel his muscles tense up as your fingers play over the back of the hand that is easily twice as large as your own before you slide them into his palm, squeezing gently.

 

“You’re not a dog.” You mumble, keeping your hand in his as you slowly drift off back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Sandor woke when he heard the girl’s bedding rustle and get tossed back and heard her light gasp of pain as she stood up. He watched as she slowly made her way to get a drink of water, but pretended to be asleep as she stopped and looked at him. 

  
“I coulda gotten that for you.” He mumbled as he pulled his gloves off, wiping his face with his hands and stifling a yawn. “I’m not completely helpless, Sandor.” She laughed. He really liked her laugh. And that she called him Sandor. Everyone always called him ‘dog’ or ‘Hound’ or ‘Clegane’. No one ever used his first name. It was … nice.

  
  
“How’re you feeling?” He flipped over so he could hear her better, silently cursing his armor for being too loud as he was trying not to wake the Lady Sansa who was on the other side of the tent.

  
  
“I’m okay. Hurting, obviously, but okay. Thanks to you.” He listened her moving around a bit on the other side before responding with a grunt, “Eh. I did what any fucker in their right mind woulda done.”

 

“But it wasn’t anyone else. It was you.” He rolled his eyes and was about to make a snide comment about how it was only because he was off in the woods taking a piss when she continued. “... I’m glad it was you.”

 

He stopped breathing. Had he heard her right? She was glad it was him?

 

 _‘Probably cuz no one else woulda been able to stop the cunts.’_ he rationalized. He knew the men in the Lannister company and knew no one else would have been able to stop them. Probably would’ve actually joined in, to be honest. Some of the Stark’s men might have tried to stop them, but he still doubted they’d have been able to take on so many. Anyway, the Stark men had been keeping to the other side of the camp, which is probably why those Lannister cunts had gone about the act so close to the camp. It was the Lannister side.

 

He took a deep breath when he finally realized he was holding it. “It’s a dog’s duty to chase off vermin.” He dismissed it, knowing for a fact that she was just glad to get away with her virtue.

 

After a few minutes of laying there, watching the stars, he heard her lay down. Assuming that was the end of the conversation, he closed his eyes, silencing the outrageous thoughts that kept creeping up about the girl laying only a few feet from him.

 

Then he felt something touch his armor. His eyes flew open and he was about to swipe at it, thinking it was some form of critter, when he saw her arm coming through from under the tent. Her fingers lightly played down his arm, his breath hitching somewhat as he felt her skin against the back of his hand. This girl’s small, fragile hand was touching him as casually as if they were friends. Her fingers slid into the palm of his hand and she lay there, holding onto him.

  
  
“You’re not a dog.” She muttered. After a few minutes of silence, Sandor Clegane heard light snoring come from the girl who was still holding onto his hand.

  
_‘What in seven hells … ?’_ He doubted he was going to be able to sleep now.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any suggestions or notes or anything, please leave a comment! I'd love any feedback you have.


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